


Contacts

by BrownieFox



Series: Youtuber fics [10]
Category: Real People RPF, Youtubers RPF
Genre: Gen, WKM, i mean they all gotta wear contacts, slightly angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 12:27:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13904010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrownieFox/pseuds/BrownieFox
Summary: Wilford runs out of contacts and finds an odd pair of glasses.





	Contacts

“What do you mean we’re out of contacts?” Wilford seemed completely baffled by the fact. Dr. Iplied sighed, smoothing back some of his hair and praying anything that was listening that Wilford wouldn’t decide to try shooting him and taking the contacts right from his eyes.

“I mean that our supply of contacts have run out for the moment. I’ll be a few days before we get more.” He explained as calmly as we can.

“We all have the same prescription, there’s at least 15 of us, and you just didn’t buy enough contacts?” It would seem Wilford was not going to let this go.

“Yes, I didn’t realize we were running low until it was too late.” Dr. Iplier watched Wilford’s hands in case the gave the telltale twitch that he was going for his gun. Only one way to solve the problem: death.

But apparently today was the Doctor’s lucky day as Wilford just huffed, crossed his arms, and left the medbay part of Ego Manor.

-

If one good thing had come from this, it was that Wilford had never realized that he sort of missed wearing glasses.

The typical ego-glasses of black rectangular rims were nowhere to be found in his room, but there was a round pair that fit right and let him see. They were oddly comfortable, despite Wilford not even being sure where he got them from, and it was a bit fun to the fiddle with the three little magnifying glasses on the side when he got bored.

He doesn’t think much of them, doesn’t even realize how his mannerisms are ever-so-slightly different, as if merely wearing these odd glasses with their strange frames touched on a part of himself that he didn’t even know existed.

Wilford passes Dark in the hallway and gives a smile and a wave. He doesn’t have time to stop or chat, he’ll almost late for his next interview.

He doesn’t see Dark halt, doesn’t see the red and blue auras burst for a second or the haunted, raging, sad look that consumed the ego’s face.

-

Wilford returns to his room tonight to find a new pair of contacts awaiting him in his room.

He takes the glasses off (almost reluctantly) and places them off the side. He always felt he looked weird in glasses.


End file.
